Tristis Heims
by CloakedDragonWing3721
Summary: Ever since the Witch, Edmund has hated and suffered during winter. Oneshot, Edmund-centric, features Peter/Edmund brotherly relationship.


**A/N:** Hello all, apparently my obsession with cunning, dark-haired boys has mutated (again). I, CloakedDragonWing3721, declare my favoritism to King Edmund the Just, Duke of the Western Woods, Count of the Lantern Waste, etc. A oneshot, for some practice in writing Narnia. The first part is set in LWW and the second between LWW and PC, I'm saying the war is over and they're back in London, and their father (Colin Pevensie) is home. Definitely Edmund centric, featuring the Edmund/Peter brotherly relationship.

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It was winter in Narnia once more, and the entire nation was afraid. The beginning of winter had been exuberant, celebratory with pride of the Witch's downfall. The only one who had not smiled constantly was Edmund, who functioned normally but with shadows under his eyes that hinted at nightmares and wrapped himself in thicker capes than usual, even for winter.

The joyous mood slowly dissolved, however, despite the kings and queens' best efforts. By Christmas, the whole country seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. If Christmas happened, it would assure the Narnians that their fear was unfounded and spring would happen in a month or two.

As Christmas approached, Edmund's spirits fell even further than his subjects', until he was constantly thin and exhausted. Peter noticed, watching Edmund and forcing him to eat, making sure he went to bed, but it didn't seem to help.

On Christmas Eve, they all went to bed as usual, but Peter and the girls cast worried glances at Edmund as he shuffled off to his room. Instead of going to his own bed and waiting for Edmund to come to him as he had for the past month during his nightmares, Peter waited until Edmund fell asleep and snuck into his room. The High King softly pulled up a cushioned chair and waited.

Peter didn't have to wait long. Within half an hour, Edmund began tossing his head back and forth gently and muttering troubled nonsense under his breath. Peter stroked his hair and that seemed to quiet Edmund, until his dreams turned violent disturbingly quickly and Edmund began crying out and thrashing wildly.

Slightly panicked at how quickly Edmund's dreams had turned from vaguely troubled to night terrors, Peter began shaking his brother's shoulders. "Wake up Ed, it's just a dream! Ed, wake up!"

Edmund woke up with a start, and after a long second or two gazing unseeingly around him, Edmund threw himself into his brother's arms with a cry. Peter couldn't help but wince at the tormented look on his little brother's face. For awhile Peter rocked Edmund and murmured reassurances in his ear until he calmed down.

After they clung to each other silently for even longer, Peter spoke. "Edmund, please tell me what's wrong. I want to help." Each night after Edmund had climbed into Peter's bed for comfort that month, Peter had pleaded with Edmund to tell him what his nightmare was about. Each time, Edmund had refused to answer… until this time.

"I'm scared, Peter," Edmund whispered, "Everything reminds me of her, and it's terrifying. I'm always cold, and I keep wondering if she cursed me, because no one else seems to be quite as cold as I am." Faltering, and then feeling Peter's arms tighten around him, Edmund continued. "When we ride our horses, the cold wind feels like the wind rushing by while I sat in the foot of her sleigh. The ice makes me think of her dungeons, and… and…"

Edmund let out a sob, unable to continue. After a few moments, he said, "Every night I relive everything, again and again, but sometimes I die, or Aslan does not forgive me, or worse… you and Susan and Lucy die and it's my fault."

"Oh, Ed," Peter whispered, but Edmund kept speaking in an almost frantic rush now, knowing that if he stopped he wouldn't be able to finish and knowing he had to finish, tell Peter everything.

"And… and… I keep feeling her stab me at Beruna over and over again, and sometimes she kills the rest of you after me while I'm dying, and sometimes I don't make it in time and she kills you, and every time I feel it all over again. I can feel her stab right through me again, and I didn't realize it the first time, but…"

Edmund choked on his words, but managed to force out the last words. "She stabbed all the way through me… s-she shattered my spine, Peter. If not for the cordial, even if I had survived, I would have been paralyzed from the waist down. I-I couldn't feel my legs, and I-I didn't realize it at first because it hurt so badly, but…" the Just King sobbed breathlessly, "I was paralyzed."

Peter was crying, and he wanted to scream. Oh, Aslan, Edmund's spine had been shattered. He wanted to throw up at the thought of how painful that must have been, and how terrified Edmund must have been once he realized what had happened, what had nearly been permanent. The chances that the cordial could have healed his spine wrong, and he could have stayed paralyzed… oh, Lion.

And his baby brother was reliving all of his torment, all of his guilt and shame, each and every night… why? Peter asked Edmund that question, and Edmund shook his head, then answered, in a painfully small voice.

"Because I deserved it."

Peter felt like the world had frozen once again for a few seconds.

When Peter felt he could breathe again, he pulled Edmund upright and looked straight into his eyes, seeing all the pain he held and crying internally for how he had carried this weight around for so long.

"NO, Edmund. Don't ever think that. No one deserves that much pain, least of all you." When Edmund looked about to protest, Peter stopped him and said, "you're my little brother and I love you Ed, I don't care what you do. Don't ever think that you deserve that pain. Aslan forgave you the moment you asked for forgiveness, Lucy and Susan forgave you the moment they found out, and I forgave you the moment you did it."

Edmund let out a small, wounded cry and buried his face into Peter's shirt and cried.

The two kings remained like that until they fell asleep together.

Jadis didn't visit Edmund that night again.

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Fourteen years later, back in London and eleven once more, Edmund sat in the living room on a chair that faced the window. It was snowing inside, and Edmund was piled under layers of blankets as was his custom. Perhaps it was irrational, but he simply couldn't feel completely warm anymore.

Susan, Lucy, and Peter took turns playing chess on the floor. Edmund was easily the best chess player of them, as Susan and Lucy weren't ones for battle tactics and Peter was too used to trying to account for provisions and supplies and the smaller things to properly play, but his siblings knew not to try to engage him for long when winter was at its coldest. Peter would comfort him after dark, as was their custom now during December.

Their parents, however, didn't know that. They didn't know what was going on, only that Edmund seemed to be cold and sad all the time for the last month and wouldn't tell them why. What was Edmund supposed to say, that he had betrayed his siblings and been tormented by the Witch he betrayed them to, then had been stabbed, in a world that was inside an abandoned wardrobe in the spare room of the Professor's house? No, better to remain silent, cold and pale until his siblings engaged him once more.

During December, Peter fretted about Edmund, worried that Edmund should be doing better. After all, it had been fifteen years, hadn't it? Shouldn't Peter have been able to help Edmund get over his pain completely? Gradually, he had accepted that Edmund wasn't going to ever be the same during December. At least Edmund didn't believe that he deserved all that pain anymore, and was able to come to Peter when he was hurting.

That was just the way things were. While his parents whispered, Edmund turned to Peter for comfort and suffered through it.

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 **A/N: The title is Latin for "Sad Winter" or "Winter Sadness" it works both ways. At least, according to Google Translate. Who knows how accurate that is.**


End file.
